


I'd Give You the Moon

by paradis



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradis/pseuds/paradis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve McGarrett does something crazy, like trading homes for two weeks with Rachel Williams to stay in New Jersey for a Christmas getaway, where he meets one Danny Williams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Give You the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Neurotic Author's note #1) Oh, my God. It's barely December, I don't know where this came from, I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm crazy, yes, it's true.
> 
> Neurotic Author's note #2) This is sort of a _The Holiday_ AU, I guess? For those of you who don't know what The Holiday is, it's that movie with Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet, Jack Black and Jude Law - yep, that movie. If you haven't seen it it's okay because it's not really worth watching all that much, don't worry, you weren't missing out on a _whole lot._ But on the bright side, it did inspire this fic!
> 
> Neurotic Author's note #3) Rachel is nice, guys. Because I believe through it all, Rachel really is nice. Divorce can just make people bitchy, is all, if you're on the wrong side of it. Considering this fic is AU, whatever.
> 
> Neurotic Author's note #4) So um, Merry Christmas!

_“What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That’s a pretty good idea. I’ll give you the moon, Mary.”_

 _“I’ll take it. Then what?”_

 _“Well, then you can swallow it, and it’ll all dissolve, see… and the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair… am I talking too much?”_

 _-It’s a Wonderful Life_

Steve stares in shock at Mary as she suggests it, a wicked grin curling around her lips as she does so. She picks up her coffee cup, grin still knife-edged like she’s satisfied with herself, smug and underappreciated. She takes a sip and then sets it back down before speaking again, “I’m just saying, Steve,” she says, tracing the ring of condensation on her coffee mug. “I think it’s really a very good idea, y’know? You’re overworked, not appreciated enough and you’ve _got_ to have enough vacation time worked up, right? It would be a good idea, is all I’m saying, right?”

“It’s a terrible idea!” Steve says quietly, firmly, snatching up her coffee cup and setting it in the sink. He starts washing the dinner dishes, avoiding her concerned gaze. “Why would I want to trade homes with someone and go somewhere I’ve never been for Christmas? Why would I want to go anywhere but here for Christmas?” He asks her, scrubbing a plate with decidedly more force than necessary.

“Um,” Mary says and then pauses before continuing, “Pardon me for being brash here,” she says, not really apologetic at all, “But what the _fuck_ , Steve? When was the last time you spent Christmas at _home_?”

“Maybe I want to now!” He says indignantly, slamming the plate into the rinse side of the sink and starting on scrubbing the silverware, nearly to polish-like standards, investigating every fork and every knife with high expectations before setting them down next to the plates. Mary snorts in amusement.

“You’ve spent Christmases in the desert,” she says, “You’ve spent Christmas in each in every country that ends in ‘an’ there is and some that I’ve never even heard of, I’ll bet,” she muses, “You’ve spent Christmas in _Italy_ and I’ve never even left the country, Steven. And all the sudden you want to be home for Christmas? And for what? You’re hoping some bad guys will pop up and you can try and blow up Honolulu on Jesus’ birthday? That is – unfair. It’s unholy, Steve. You need to think this through. I’d accept it if I knew how to cook or something, or if you weren’t as stressed out as you are, but you need a getaway.”

“I don’t need a getaway!” Steve says loudly, slamming the plate into the dish-drying rack.

“You do!” Mary says, glaring at him, “You do. Just – look into it, okay?” She leaves the laptop open, the site for the home-trading page pulled up still, and Steve glares at it like it’s done something to personally offend him as he continues to rinse the dishes off as Mary puts her sweater and shoes on. “Steve – look, Chin said you tried to throw one of your suspects of the seventeenth story Friday and he had to shout your name for two minutes before you let go. _You are overworked._ You are _stressed out._ Get away, take a break. You’re not doing anything to offend me by leaving me alone for Christmas, okay? Go somewhere where it snows for Christmas, maybe,” she grins, and then pecks him on the cheek before leaving.

Steve glares at her back as the door slams and then shuts the laptop viciously.

\--  
“I don’t know,” Rachel says, taking a sip of her tea and looking to where Grace is playing in the mall play area. Danny’s fingers twitch and he reminds himself not to get annoyed. He and Rachel are friends – best friends, but sometimes it’s easy to remember why they divorced, all the little things that got on his nerves for the brief moments they were together – wild and crazy young passion deluding them into thinking they could be a perfect little family unit. Deluding Danny into thinking he could happily reside with a woman, with a woman as gorgeous as Rachel when he was really more into the opposing sex.

“The corporate office just drives me insane,” she finally breathes out, rubbing her forehead in frustration, “They’ve gone bugfuck mad with the Christmas sales and they’ve insisted that this is the make or break year. And then when I say we simply can’t meet their demands, suddenly I’ve gotten myself laid off,” she squints her eyes like she’s trying to avoid a migraine and Danny pats her hand sympathetically.

“I’m telling you,” Danny says, “You need to get away. Take this layoff for the opportunity it is, Rach,” he says, “I’ll take Grace for Christmas – I know you want to be there, but, well – you need this. You’re making yourself sick,” he notes her reddening nose, the oncoming cold she’s begun to develop and the pack of tissues that are sitting next to her Styrofoam cup, the pack that she’s been carrying around with her all morning – the one she claims is for Grace but that she’s been delving into secretly when she thinks Danny isn’t looking.

“What if they call and want me to –“ she starts but Danny is shaking his head.

“ _Rach,_ ” he says insistently, “Please, take a vacation. Go somewhere warm and catch some sun. Video chat with Grace and I when you think you start to miss the snow and when you’re missing us and we’ll remind you how miserable it is here, right? And then when you’re relaxed enough, the holidays will be over and you can come home and it’ll be all good again. You can look for a different job, a better job in the city, and it’ll all be okay.”

Rachel stays silent for a moment and they both watch Grace running around, screaming and playful in the play area, sipping their drinks before Rachel nods. “I do have a site that Beth recommended looking into for places to stay,” she says thoughtfully, “Okay,” she says.”

\--  
 _Ms. Williams,_

 _I’ve sent everything to you, alarm code included. The house isn’t decorated for Christmas – I’m not really into it, my sister calls me the Grinch – but if you feel it’s necessary, there are decorations in the attic._

 _Speaking of my sister, she might stop in to see how you are now and again. Don’t let her attitude fool you, she’s really very nice. Enjoy your stay._

 _Steven J. McGarrett_

Mary looks over his shoulder, snorts, “Well,” she says, “At least you didn’t put ‘Lt. Commander’” she says, putting air quotes around his respective title and Steve stares at her, doe-eyed and a little confused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, lower lip sticking out a little.

“Steve, you just basically called me a bitch and then came across as a person who hates Christmas and is possibly the most cold-hearted person in all of Hawaii,” she tells him, moving across the kitchen to pour coffee for the both of them. “If she doesn’t demand to re-trade homes two minutes after she steps through here, it will be a miracle,” Mary says.

Steve sort of hopes that’s the case.

\--  
 _Mr. McGarrett,_

 _I’ve received your items and have sent mine in return. Don’t let the little girl’s room fool you, there aren’t any children staying here for the duration of your stay, although my daughter and her father may stop by to make sure everything is in order and pick up a few of her stuffed animals, should she forget any._

 _Our apartment is decorated for Christmas, I must admit – can’t leave an apartment sparse with a six year old little girl in December, I’m afraid. Please try to enjoy it a little – but don’t think I’m trying to sound pushy._

 _Enjoy the snow,_

 _Rachel Williams_

Danny watches as she signs with a flourish on her ‘s’ like always, the way she perfected from the day she legally became a Williams and practiced like a little school girl on notebook paper. He rolls his eyes and bites his lip as she glances up. “What?” She demands, cocking an eyebrow.

“Nothing!” He holds his hands up in surrender and she glares at him, “It’s just – ‘please don’t think I’m trying to sound pushy?’ Rach, this apartment is… um – it’s well. It looks like Christmas _exploded_ in here,” Danny says, sighing.

“That’s my fault?” Rachel practically shrieks, “You’re the one that teamed up with our daughter while I was at work. Do you remember that, Daniel? Do you? ‘Don’t worry,’ you said, ‘We’ll just pull out some decorations, nothing major.’ What did I come home to? Grace-Gone-Wild-Slash-Christmas-Gone-Crazy! And the two of you grinning like loons. Tinsel everywhere, glitter everywhere,” Rachel takes a breath and notices Danny trying to hide a grin and she shoots him another glare.

“You’re just sending him into this completely unawares,” he shrugs, “Like, that wasn’t much of a warning, is all,” he says.

“Yes well, he doesn’t sound much in the Christmas spirit, does he?” she muses. Danny leans over her shoulder to read the email McGarrett had sent her earlier and shakes his head.

“How can you _not_ be in the Christmas spirit?” he wonders. Rachel shrugs, turning to face him.

“Not sure. You’ll give me a ride to the airport, of course? You and Grace?”

He chucks her under the chin and pecks her on the cheek. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Williams,” he says, grabbing his things and putting his shoes on. “I’m gonna give Grace a kiss goodnight and head out.”

Rachel frowns, “You should just stay here tonight, Danny, it’s cold out and you’ve got to be back here bright and early anyways, to take me to the airport,” she says, concerned.

“I can’t,” he says, smiling, eyes twinkling. “No rest for Santa, you know,” he says grinning, “I’ve been wrapping presents and shopping for the last three days since you decided to run away at the last minute.” Rachel punches him in the shoulder and he jabs her in the ribs.

“You suggested it, you prat!” she laughs.

“I know,” he says. “See you tomorrow.” He disappears into Grace’s room to kiss her goodnight and then leaves.

\--  
“This isn’t a good idea,” Steve repeats as Mary guides him through the airport.

“It’s too late,” Mary says for the thousandth time.

“She could try to burn the house down,” he suggests.

“Now you’re talking crazy,” Mary rolls her eyes, “And I thought you were before.”

“She could steal everything inside the house.”

“Steven,” Mary stops in the middle of the airport and grips his arms tightly, looking up at him with one of her rare, dead serious looks, the one that they must have both inherited from someone in their family. The one that intimidates a lot of people, Steve included when he’s on the receiving end of it – rare as that may be. “Shut up,” she says, “Get on the fucking plane, go to New Jersey and spend Christmas and New Year’s relaxing. Stop freaking out.”

Steve takes a deep, shuddering breath and rubs a palm over his face, squinting against an oncoming tension headache. He gets a lot of them these days.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” Mary nods.

Steve steps through security and before he knows it, he’s getting on the plane.

\--  
“Okay,” Rachel says, teary eyed and Danny watches her carefully as he tugs her luggage out of the car and into the airport.

“Jesus, Rach,” he grumbles as he pulls it through the doors. Grace holds onto Rachel’s hand and they walk through the airport towards the check-in area. “What’ve you got in here?”

“Enough,” she says breezily, winking down at Grace. Grace giggles and glances up at Danny. Danny rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at her and she giggles even more.

The reach check-in and come to a halt, and Rachel’s brow crinkles with a little bit of sadness. “Here we are,” she sighs, glancing down at Grace and gripping her a little tighter. She stoops down to her height and wraps her arms around her tightly. “I love you, Amazing Grace,” she says, kissing her on the top of her head.

“Love you too, mommy,” Grace whispers into her ear. “Have a Merry Christmas. Bring seashells back for me, okay? And Danno, too!” she says, pulling back. “He always says he hates the beach but I always catch him looking at that seashell he has on his dresser.”

“Maybe I just like seashells,” Danny grumbles, leaning against Rachel’s luggage. Grace grins up at him and he tugs on her ponytail lightly.

“Oh,” Rachel cries and kisses Grace all over her face, “You two,” she says, standing up and throwing her arms around Danny, kissing him all over his face, as well, “Don’t get into any trouble, alright? Don’t let her get to bed too late, Daniel, I _will_ be calling. And don’t let Daddy eat too many cookies, alright Gracie?” Rachel says.

Grace nods seriously, very apparent on the task. Danny mutters under his breath and Rachel socks him on the shoulder as they call her flight. “I’ve got to go,” she says, swallowing against tears, “Behave,” she says again, taking her luggage from Danny and turning to go.

She gets to where they’re taking her tickets and turns around one last time, waving and blowing the both of them kisses.

\--  
It’s _cold_ is the only thing Steve can think as he makes his way into the apartment that will be his home for the next two weeks. He flings the door open and sets his bags down before flicking the lights on. When he does, he manfully tries to bite the shriek that swells up in his lungs down. Christmas lights are blinking on and there’s a tree blindingly decorated in one corner of the living room. Tinsel covers several flat surfaces, along with Christmas drawings, several stuffed _and_ pottery Santa Clauses, reindeer, and elves. There are Christmas stockings hanging over the fireplace.

Steve closes his eyes tight and opens them again, hoping maybe it will have disappeared. It’s still there and he groans. “Oh, my God,” he mumbles to himself, kicking his bags aside and making his way towards the kitchen, turning the lights on. “So much red and green.” He checks out what’s in the kitchen (more Christmas drawings and two more reindeer, on that looks suspiciously like it’s made out of popsicle sticks), and your normal everyday kitchen utensils, thankfully.

The apartment itself is very sleek and modern day, stainless steel and black and white, but comforting and warming at the same time, made homey by the children’s toys stacked in one corner of the living area, and the drawings hung up on the refrigerator. On the mantel, there are several pictures of a little girl and then a few more of what seems to be a family unit – presumably Ms. Williams and maybe… Mr. Williams? Steve guesses, shrugging to himself. Mr. Williams has a huge grin, the little girl (Grace, Steve guesses, if the name on the _very_ glittery Christmas stocking is anything to go by) is sitting up on his shoulders, and Ms. Williams has both her arms slung around his shoulders, a big open mouthed laugh frozen on her admittedly attractive face. She’s got a sleek pair of sunglasses on, her hair pulled back, and it looks to be about summer, if the shorts she and her little girl are wearing.

Steve sighs, grimacing once again at all the Christmas decorations and decides he needs a drink. He looks around in the kitchen, but there’s nothing there, of course, so he decides on going out. He finds his coat (grimacing at _that_ too, and doesn’t he grimace a lot, here in New Jersey?) before tugging his shoes back on and heading out the door.

 _Snow_ he thinks, trudging over the soggy puddles towards the nearest restaurant, _is ridiculous._ It’s more than ridiculous, he concludes. It’s cold and slippery and miserable and sure – it’s shiny and clean and pure for about three hours before it gets splattered with mud and trash and all the other disgusting things in the world. And then you have to shovel it up and wipe it away and make sure you don’t fall on it.

Steve learned all of this while he was at Annapolis, so he’s not really sure why Mary is so hell bent on him coming out East for his Christmas this year. He’s not really sure why he _agreed_ to it in the first place. There’s Christmas cheer in Hawaii, sure, but it seems more avoidable than where he is now. Where he is now, walking down the sidewalk, there are Santa’s ringing their bells for charity and waving and Christmas carolers singing on practically every block. Lights are twinkling everywhere and Steve wants to cover his ears and blindfold himself – he’s manly enough to admit it.

He eats his dinner quietly and alone – with a lot of wine, and stops on the way back at the gas station on the corner for a six pack before making his way back to the apartment. He unlocks the door and is about to head straight for the kitchen when he notices the living area lights are on. He makes his way there, instead, wielding the six pack like a weapon. There’s someone rustling around in the toy corner of the living room and Steve moves noiselessly across the room, until he’s right behind the person. The guy stands up – he’s short, much shorter than Steve – and goes to turn around, running right smack into Steve. “Oof. Shit.” He says, muffled into Steve’s shirt.

“Hi,” Steve says grimly, looking down at the top of his head. The guy looks up, steps back and Steve notices he’s clutching a stuffed Sock Monkey.

“Hi,” he says.

“So,” Steve says, still observing the Sock Monkey, the shorter man. “Who’re you?”

“Um,” he swallows, looks up, “I’m Danny – Williams. My – uh – Rachel owns this place? I um – “

“Danno?” A little girl’s voice sounds curious, coming out from one of the bedrooms clutching what looks to be like a stuffed polar bear in her arms, looking sleep-rumpled in a nightgown, but panicked at the same time. “I have it now. We can go.” Her lower lip trembles a little, “Sorry for forgetting,” she says, coming over to the shorter man and nuzzling her head against his leg. The man shoots Steve a frustrated look before stooping down and wrapping his arms around her, picking her up and kissing her forehead.

“Monkey, no,” he says soothingly, “It is not your fault, okay? Danno should have remembered Penny the Polar Bear, too,” he flicks a finger at the bear clutched in the little girl’s arms and Steve’s gaze flickers between the two of them.

He thinks he might suffocate a little on all the love shared between the two of them. The little girl glances over at Steve and Steve steps back a little, eyebrows raised, going towards the kitchen and flicking the lights on and setting the six back down on the counter. She squirms in her father’s arms until he lets her down and she comes out into the kitchen, looking up at Steve. “I’m Grace,” she says, offering him a smile, her brown eyes wide and curious.

Steve stares down at her, doesn’t know how to respond for a long moment. “Um,” he says, “Steve,” he says finally, and she holds out her hand, waiting for him to take it and shake it in return. When he finally does, she gives him a grin before running back to her father again, holding her arms up to be picked up. He picks her up and walks into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “Grace forgot Penny,” he gestures towards the polar bear, “And woke up needing her. I couldn’t exactly turn this,” he taps her nose gently and she giggles, “Face down so we had to come grab her. I thought you’d be here, so I knocked, but you didn’t answer. So I had to use my key. I didn’t mean to um – well,” he shrugs, glancing amusedly at the six-pack Steve had _kind of_ intended to use as a weapon, “I guess I didn’t scare you, but I didn’t mean to take you by surprise or overwhelm you, at any rate. We won’t bother you again,” he says, walking towards the door.

“Wait!” Grace shouts, squirming in Danny’s arms to turn around to face him. Steve looks up. “Do you like the Christmas decorations?” she asks, eyes hopeful. Steve freezes in the middle of putting the beer in the fridge and opens his mouth.

Danny turns around to face him and if Steve knew him better, he’d swear there was a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “Um,” Steve swallows, “They’re very nice.”

Grace grins, “Merry Christmas Mr. Steve,” she says, waving and yawning sleepily as Danny nods at him and shuts the door behind him. Steve slams the fridge shut and groans, banging his head against the door.

\--  
“There’s Christmas everywhere,” he hisses into the phone.

There’s a long pause.

Mary says, “It’s a week before Christmas. Was there supposed to be Halloween everywhere?” Steve refrains from throwing his phone into the fireplace or through the window, because either situation would not end very well, he tells himself, and pulls it away from his ear instead to glare at it, as though he can project his death glare thousands of miles across the country, all the way to his sister. He taps his foot as he waits for her to say more and goes over to the wall of windows to stare out at the city, the grey morning looking completely unappealing, snowflakes already starting to drift down towards the ground. “Steve, what do you want me to say?” Mary finally sighs, “It’s Christmas, she has a daughter that wanted to decorate, and she left it that way for you to enjoy. I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed by it. Sit back and _enjoy_ it, God.”

“Because,” Steve grinds his teeth and tries not to lose his mind, “Because I don’t _want_ Christmas everywhere!”

“Oh, hush,” Mary says and Steve can tell by her unaffected tone that she’s probably sitting back and studying her nails, beyond caring at this point about his ranting. Steve can tell that Mary is set and determined to make him see the positive in coming here for this Christmas, whether she has to start avoiding his phone calls and forcing him all the way from Hawaii into going out and enjoying the Holidays or not.

“Mary,” he says warningly and she snorts.

“So tell me,” she says, “Have you met anyone yet? Any cute girls?”

“No, Mary,” Steve says flatly.

Mary brightens, “Guys?”

“Mary.”

“Oh, my God,” she says after a pause, “Who is it? What’s his name? What does he look like? Is he nice?”

“Mary.”

“He’s not like that last one, is he? Did you ask him out? Did he ask you out?”

“Mary,” Steve locks his jaw and grips the countertop, searching through his soul for every last ounce of patience he’s got, “Please.”

She sighs loudly down the phone, but obviously takes the hint. Sort of. “So, not a keeper?” She asks.

May God help him, that’s the last they’ll see of her, Steve thinks as he throws the phone across the room and into the kitchen, where it clatters across the tiles loudly.

\--  
Warm and bright, sunshine creeping into even the darkest corners, Rachel thinks happily as she unpacks her clothes, stuffing them into the dresser. The house is plain and kept simple, nothing like her and Grace’s cluttered apartment, everything like that of a military man’s house, certainly. But it’s just what she needs for a vacation, what she needs for a getaway. She’ll miss Grace, she’ll miss Christmas with the Williams family, but she’s stressed beyond her breaking point and Danny was right to send her away.

There’s a knock at the door and she hurries to answer it. A blonde haired woman with green eyes and a smirk twitching at the corners of her lips is on the other side and she nods her head. “Hey, so, you’re the house-trader,” she says. “I’m Mary, Steve’s sister,” she sticks her hand out and Rachel takes it.

“Rachel,” she says, offering a smile. “Would you like to come in for tea?”

Mary glances down at her phone, checking the time before shrugging and shooting her a smile. “Sure, why not?” she asks no one in particular and steps through the door. “I can even be nice and show you where everything is, if you like,” she says, leading Rachel into the kitchen. “Steve’s a neat freak, so it’s all pretty easy to find.”

They make their tea and sit at the island, discussing nothing in particular. Mary tells her about the things she should check out around the island while she’s here and then conversation falls short for a moment while Rachel looks around the house for a brief moment. “Your brother,” she says thoughtfully, “He doesn’t like Christmas?”

Mary snorts, “My brother doesn’t have _time_ to like Christmas.”

Rachel arches an eyebrow and – in a very Danny-like way – waves her hand for her to continue. “Steve’s in charge of a task force here in Hawaii,” Mary explains, “He’s always working. Before that he was in the Navy. He only came back home when my dad died. That’s when he got the force. Now he’s constantly working, case after case. The team says it’s because he won’t take on a partner and he because he’s got – unresolved issues – who doesn’t?” Mary gives Rachel a _duh_ look and Rachel has to nod in agreement because – why else is she here? “But I guess Steve’s are probably a little stronger than most, sure. Anyways, I practically had to break his arm to do this house trading thing, y’know? And even now, he’s totally on the fence about it.”

“Hmm,” Rachel says, and lifts her tea cup to take another sip.

\--  
“Hey,” Danny answers his phone as he’s rushing through the grocery checkout line. There are several old people pushing and shoving behind him and the checkout lady looks harassed in front of him as she scans his bread. Beside him, Grace grips his hand tightly, just like she’s instructed to at all times when it’s busy in a building. “Rach, how’s it going?”

“It’s beautiful,” Rachel exclaims into the phone, and Danny can’t hide a smile as he pulls out his wallet and hands the cashier his card. She swipes it and hands it back to him and he grabs his bag, makes sure Grace has his hand and hurries out to the parking lot. “Danny, the house is wonderful, the ocean is gorgeous, the beach is beautiful, the weather is _warm_ , and I am – in heaven,” she breathes. “I might never want to come back to New Jersey.”

“Ha,” Danny snorts.

“Don’t get too cocky, Daniel,” Rachel says down the line, a smile in her voice, “You might just like it here, you know.”

“Right,” Danny says, “Me and my city-loving self, up and moving to an _island_ surrounded by _water._ Rachel. And they used to say you weren’t funny.” Danny knows the exact moment when Rachel is flipping him off, because there is an indignant huff over the phone and then laughter.

“How’s my baby?” She asks, going quieter, and Danny smiles, tucking the phone between his neck and ear as he leans down to buckle Grace into the car.

“Gracie is doing just fine,” Danny says, pecking said little girl on the forehead as he pulls away. “She misses you already, but she’s fine, Rach. Would you like to talk to her?”

“Yes, please,” Rachel breathes, and Danny hands the phone to an excited Grace before putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot. Grace talks for a few long minutes before handing the phone back to Danny, already hung up.

“Mommy says to tell you to lay off the Christmas cookies, or Grandma’s gonna make you get big, like Santa,” Grace says and Danny shoots her a dark look in the mirror.

“That’s not true,” he says. “Williams keep a good figure.”

“Daddy!” Grace giggles, kicking her legs a little in her seat. Danny grins.

“What are we doing today, Monkey? What movie are we watching, huh?”

“Miracle on 34th Street, Danno!” She shouts as he pulls into the parking space for his apartment. She unbuckles her seatbelt and jumps out, grabbing the grocery bag as she goes. “Please, please, please, Danno, can we?” she says, running ahead up the steps, bouncing a little as she waits for Danny to unlock the door. Danny shakes his head, laughing a little.

“Of course we can, Monkey. Miracle on 34th Street it is. Give me that bag and you go get the movie, put it in, okay? You want popcorn, babe?”

“Yes!” She says, racing into the living room. Danny laughs under his breath as he puts the groceries away and starts the popcorn. They’re just about to start the movie when the phone rings.

“Williams,” Danny says into the phone, kind of grouchy, because he swears, if he gets called into work on his day off he’s not going to be a happy camper and they’re going to _know_ it.

“Um, hi, is this – is this Danny?” the voice on the other end is hesitant, and Danny pulls the phone away from his ear to look at the caller ID. Unknown number, of course.

“Yes,” he says hesitantly.

“It’s Steve,” the person on the other line says quickly. “McGarrett, from – um, I traded – you know…” he trails off and Danny finally gets it.

“Oh, yeah,” Danny says. “What can I do for you, man?”

“I –“ Steve breaks off, “This is going to sound really dumb,” he groans, laughing a little into the phone, “But I have no idea how to work this stove and I was wondering if you could –“

“We’ll be over,” Danny interrupts, “Give me ten minutes, okay?” On the other end of the line, Steve breathes a sigh of relief, and Danny tries not to smile. He gestures for Grace to pause the movie and he sets the bowl of popcorn on the table.

\--  
Steve could really just send this day straight to Hell, if he’s honest with himself. First with the phone and the conversation with Mary, now with the stove. He’s sure he’s broken it, but then he’d noticed the _In case of Emergencies_ contact list pinned up next to the landline in the kitchen, all neat, perfect handwriting, Danny’s number the very first one, right at the top of the list, and Steve just called him on impulse to see if he could help.

He sulks around the apartment waiting for Danny to get here, and jumps at the first knock. “Hi,” Danny says on the other side of the door when Steve opens it, “Mr. Fix-It, here to help.”

“Ha, ha,” Steve says, frowning again. “It’s just –“

“Rachel just had to buy the newest thing,” Danny flings a hand in the general direction of nothing, Steve notes, heading towards the kitchen. “It took the two of us, the manual, and a couple of calls to the company to figure out how to stop the timer the first time we used it when she got it.” He steps back to survey what Steve’s done while Grace takes a seat at one of the island chairs and watches the two of them for a moment before pulling a coloring book out of her bag and beginning to color.

After a few moments, he reaches forward and turns a few knobs, presses a few buttons and then turns back to Steve, a twinkle in his eyes, “There,” he says. “You um – you want me to help you make whatever you’re attempting to make?” he scratches the back of his neck.

Steve shifts from foot to foot, feeling guilty even though he shouldn’t about what he’s about to admit. “It’s um, frozen pizza,” he says, avoiding eye contact and Danny snorts laughing. Steve rolls his eyes before giving in and laughing a little, too. “There were a lot of buttons,” he says in his defense and Danny laughs a little more.

Steve tries not to notice how great Danny’s laugh is.

“How about we get real Jersey up in here,” Danny says, going to a cupboard and pulling down the flour, “And make some real pizza. Whattya say, Monkey?”

Grace looks up from her coloring book and grins wide. “Yeah, Danno! You have to show Mr. Steve how to toss the dough!”

Steve looks from person to person before he shrugs, laughing a little, “I’ve cheese in the fridge, I bought it this afternoon. I don’t know about –“ but Danny is already reaching into another cupboard, pulling out sauce and setting it down on the counter.

He grins at Steve. “We Williams,” he says smugly, “We’re always prepared for a sudden pizza craving.”

“Pizza,” Grace cheers from across the kitchen before slamming her coloring book shut and jumping down from her chair, running across the room to stand next to them.

Before Steve knows it, he’s covered in flour, listening to Grace’s shrieks and giggles as he flicks flour on her nose, listening to Danny’s instructions on how to toss the pizza dough. _“It’s all in the wrist, Steven, haven’t you ever played basketball?_ The pizza slides into the oven and Danny pulls out a bottle of wine and two glasses for he and Steve and then a pitcher and Kool-aid mix for Grace. He makes the juice for Grace before he gets the wine for he and Steve, grimacing as red splashes onto the counter.

“It stains everything,” he explains to Steve as he stirs the juice before putting the lid on the pitcher and pulling a pink Princess cup down from a cupboard. “Trust me, man. Red dye will be the death of you someday.”

Steve laughs and tries not to think about how it probably _won’t_ be, not with the way he seems to lean a lot more towards the guy side of relationships these days, not with the way he can’t seem to open up emotionally when he is with a woman, therefore they bail out about two months in. Steve can’t blame them, really. He takes the proffered wine glass from Danny and clinks glasses with him before taking a sip. “Thanks,” he says after he takes a sip, “For, you know, helping.”

Danny shrugs, “I’m all about helping,” he says, “It’s kind of my job, you know? But more than that, I promised Rachel I’d make this easy on her and that meant helping you when you needed it. Besides, you’re a nice guy, so hey. Not a problem.”

Steve sets his wine glass on the counter and shifts his weight a little. “What’s your job?” he asks, glancing at Danny. Danny smiles over the rim of his glass, eyes a little distant.

“I’m a cop,” he says. “Homicide detective.”

“Wow,” Steve says, “Heavy duty, huh?”

“Sure,” Danny shrugs, “I guess so. Things are pretty lightweight right now, with Christmas, thank God. Means I get more time at home with Grace.”

“So um,” Steve scratches the back of his neck a little uncomfortably, “What’s the um, the deal with you and –“ he gestures around the apartment and Danny looks amused.

“Rachel?” he asks, teasing Steve. Steve shoots him a glare. Danny laughs, “We were friends, and then we were friends with benefits, and then we were friends with benefits who were expecting a child. So we went all in and got married, said we wanted our kid to feel like she’d have a family, y’know? But the thing is…” Danny trails off, taking another sip of wine, “Sometimes you’re better off being best friends. Which, we are. Marriage was never our thing. We’re a good family, a great family. Just. As friends.”

“Friends?” Steve asks blankly, “That picture in on the mantel, were you married then?” Danny cocks his head to the side, staring curiously at Steve before shaking his head.

“No, that picture was from last summer. We’ve been divorced for a long time,” Danny says.

“Only it’s just,” Steve says, shrugging, “You look really close.”

“We are really close,” Danny says, “All of us. We’re a family, like a said. It’s just, sometimes people discover things about themselves – or try to push those things aside for a long time – and they come to a head, become unavoidable, and you find out they’re you’re better off doing things a different way.”

“Discover what?” Steve asks softly, taking the stem of his wine glass between two fingers and studying it carefully. Danny opens his mouth to speak and in that moment, the timer for the pizza goes off.

“I um – need to get that,” Danny says, wrinkling his nose a little.

“Right,” Steve says quickly.

They eat together, Grace keeping the chatter going loudly, happily, laughing and cheering and complimenting their wonderful pizza making skills. As Danny buttons her winter coat up, she squirms to get away from him to come over to Steve. “Steve!” She says, tugging on his shirt, because he’s not Mr. Steve anymore, having insisted somewhere after the fourth time she splattered flour on his black tee not to call him _mister_ anymore. “Steve, you have to come make cookies with Danno and me tomorrow,” she says excitedly.

“Oh, Grace I –“ he breaks off, glancing up at Danny, who is leaning against the doorjamb, watching his daughter with an amused smile on his face.

“I don’t mind,” he shrugs, nodding his head.

“Please say you will,” Grace tugs on his shirt a little again, bouncing on her feet, “Please, Steve, please say you will!”

“Okay,” Steve swallows, “Sure, I can do that.”

“Yay!” Grace throws her arms around his legs, squeezing tight for a moment before pulling away. “We’re going to make so many cookies for Santa. We’re using my Grandma’s recipes, she makes the _best_ cookies, Steve, just wait and see!”

“I… can’t wait, Grace,” Steve says, patting her head and brushing hair away from her forehead. She grins toothily at him before taking Danny’s hand and walking out the door.

“See you tomorrow!” She calls.

\--  
She meets him at a lovely restaurant in Honolulu. She’s on her own, in a simple yet elegant black dress and heels, hair pulled up and sitting at the bar, waiting on her white wine from the bartender when he steps up next to her. “I’ve got her drink,” he says to the bartender, before turning to smile at her charmingly.

“You presume things, don’t you,” she says, the corners of her lips twitching up in a not-just-yet smile.

“I’d like to buy it for you, if you’ll let me,” he rephrases his earlier statement, and she thinks about it, and then nods.

“Alright,” she says, twisting her stool so the she’s facing him. The bartender hands her the wine glass and she takes a sip as he places his own order. When his drink is placed in front of him he turns to face Rachel again, sticking his hand out for her to take. She does and he kisses her hand before giving it back to her.

“Stan Edwards,” he says, all charm and smiles, eyes bright and twinkling. There’s something there, in the deep recesses of his eyes that reminds her of Danny, of Danny’s charm and divine eloquence, but the elegance, that’s all new. It’s rich and bright, different and sleek.

“Rachel Williams,” she replies, putting on her best smile. Stan starts talking then, asking her all sorts of questions and Rachel is uneasy at first, butterflies fluttering nervously in her stomach because she hasn’t done this in a while, not really, but she eases into it and before she knows it, two hours have passed and she and Stan have eaten the entire bowl of peanuts sitting on the bar.

“Listen,” Stan says leaning forward, “I’d love to take you out to dinner tomorrow night. Would that be alright, Rachel Williams?” He knows, now, about Grace and Danny, about her life in New Jersey, and interestingly enough, he doesn’t mind, has stuck around and even cared enough to ask her to dinner tomorrow night, and that is – _impressive,_ thinks Rachel. She hesitates only slightly before she nods, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her hair.

“I would really like that, Stan,” she says, licking her lips. Stan laughs a little, delightedly, pats her arm and then hops down from the bar seat.

“Great,” he says, leaning in and kissing her cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Rachel can’t wait.

\--  
Steve makes his way to the address hastily scrawled on a scrap of paper and he’s about to knock on the door when it flies open, Grace staring up at him, brown eyes wide and excited. “Steve!” she shouts, clapping her hands together. “Danno! Steve is here! He’s here! Can we start making them now, _please?_ ” She leaves the door open and Steve takes that as permission to step through as she runs to the back of the house.

“Monkey, let’s turn the volume _down_ some, okay?” Danny says, appearing in the foyer pulling a shirt over his head. His hair appears a little damp and his clothes seem kind of fresh, so Steve surmises that he’s just gotten out of the shower. “Hey,” he gives Steve a grin, “Sorry, I just got out of the shower,” he shrugs, straightening his tee shirt out.

“Danno!” Grace says, bouncing on her feet some, glancing from the two of them to the kitchen, which is easily visible from here. Danny laughs and shakes his head.

“Alright already, kiddo,” Danny says, gesturing for Steve to follow, “Let’s get baking, right?”

First on the list is chocolate chip cookies, Grace decides, her absolute favorite. She pulls the chocolate chips down while Danny gets the recipe down and tells Steve not to even think about looking. “Prying eyes stay away,” he scolds when Steve tries to reach over him for the mixing bowl, jabbing him in the chest, “My grandmother’s recipe, Steven, it stays in the Williams family _only._ ” Steve snorts and pulls the mixing bowl the rest of the way down, looking over at Grace and crossing his eyes.

Grace shrieks in delight, “Do it again, Steve, do it again!” she says, “It’s weird!” And because she’s so adorable, because he can’t help himself, because he’s just drawn to these two people, he crosses his eyes out and sticks his tongue out, too, and Grace shrieks again, laughs, and jumps up onto a chair so she can be eye level with the counter to help mix the cookie dough.

“Alright, children,” Danny says, dumping eggs and brown sugar into the bowl simultaneously, “Steve, you stir, Grace, you help me measure out flour, okay babe?”

“Gotcha,” Steve nods.

When chocolate chip cookies are in the oven, peanut butter ones come next, Grace tells him with enthusiasm. Steve eyes the five lb. bag of sugar with uncertainty and chews on his bottom lip before turning his gaze on Danny. “You’re going to use this whole thing today, aren’t you?” he asks with an underlying tone of disgust.

Danny gives him a smug grin and a wink.

Three hours and several dozen batches of cookies later, Steve is covered head to toe in flour, butter is smudged on his nose, and Danny’s apartment smells positively wonderful, Steve decides as he collapses onto a kitchen chair and Danny hands him a beer. He hands Grace a glass of milk and then sits himself down with his own beer. The plate in front of them is piled high with a variety of cookies and treats and Grace is eyeing it hungrily, like an animal or – Steve decides this is probably the better comparison – a child with treats dangled in front of her. “Danno –“ she starts, but Danny cuts her off.

“Dinner first,” he says, “And it is almost finished, Grace, so you can wait, okay?”

She sighs, breath blowing out loudly, but she nods her head and takes a drink of her milk, still eyeing the plate of cookies. A timer in the kitchen buzzes and Danny groans, head thunking on the table before he goes to get up again. “I’ll help,” Steve says, getting up as well. Danny is making spaghetti, he’d told him, insisting Steve stay for dinner after helping them so much with their desserts.

Steve hadn’t resisted too much, there’d been nowhere else to go and he enjoys his time spent with Grace and Danny; the two of them are happy-go-lucky rays of sunshine, if he thinks about it. The two of them brightens his day a little more every time he even thinks about them, let alone spends time with them. So Danny had started dinner and Steve had spent time playing Candyland with Grace before sitting at the kitchen table and drinking his drink, exhausted. Now, he helps Danny by straining the spaghetti noodles and dumping them in a bowl, pulling two spoons out to scoop them with. “Thanks,” Danny murmurs as he stirs the sauce.

“Sure,” Steve shrugs. He’s about to turn around when, for the second time in as many days, Danny runs smack into his chest, an “Oomph,” escaping from his lips in a breathless noise. He groans and pulls back a little to look up at Steve, laughter in his eyes.

“This keeps happening,” he says, amused, and Steve nods.

“It does. You should try to be a little less clumsy, probably.”

Danny slaps him across the shoulder and shakes his head, “Bastard. I’m not clumsy. You’re a huge, hulking figure that takes up half the space in a room with your physical presence alone. Then you factor in your _emotional_ issues and there’s like, nowhere to move,” Danny says. Steve frowns.

“I don’t have emotional issues, Danno,” he says, annoyed.

Danny narrows his eyes, “You,” he jabs a finger in Steve’s chest, “Don’t call me that. Danny, Daniel, those are acceptable, Big D, D, Danno, D-Dog, _those_ are unacceptable names in the book of nicknames to call me.”

“Big D?” Steve grins.

“Steven,” Danny says, annoyed now. “We were discussing how yes, in fact you _do_ have emotional issues; I know this and I’ve only known you for what? Three days now? Emotional issues spanning probably as large as the Atlantic,” Danny says, opening his arms wide.

Steve huffs, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You grimace every time my daughter mentions the _word_ Christmas, let alone every time you stumble upon a Christmas decoration. I wish I could have seen the look on your face when you opened the door to Rach’s apartment,” Danny says gleefully. Steve shoots him a glare while he stirs the sauce for him again and Danny pulls down three plates and silverware.

He says, “People don’t have to like Christmas.”

“The Grinch doesn’t have to like Christmas,” Danny responds, “And even he saw the light in the end. Heart three sizes too small, grows three sizes larger and all that jazz,” he flaps a hand, grabbing napkins.

“I know people who don’t enjoy Christmas, Danny,” Steve says, annoyed again.

“Who? Your Commander? People of other religions who don’t – you know, _celebrate it?_ ”

“ _Danny,_ ” Steve says, exasperated, and Danny sets everything down on the counter and holds his hands up, surrendering.

“Alright, alright, fine. You don’t want to talk about your emotional issues, fine. I’m just saying, there are like, negative ten percent of people who walk this Earth that don’t enjoy Christmas, is all. Christmas is a time to celebrate miracles, the people that have touched your lives, the people that have come into your lives and made them better.” Steve definitely notices the way Danny’s head swivels at the moment, towards the table where Grace is coloring again, oblivious to their conversation.

But he just huffs, pretends to ignore Danny, and grabs the pasta and sets it on the table. He doesn’t tell Danny that the last time someone came into his life and touched it, made it better, was a very, _very_ long time ago and he’s not sure if anyone is even capable of doing so anymore. Instead, he scoops a heaping spoonful of pasta on his plate – per Danny’s instruction, _“That’s perfectly good pasta, Steven, and have you ever tasted homemade sauce? No, I didn’t think so._ and starts shoveling it into his mouth.

And he even has seconds.

\--  
Rachel’s date is perfect. Stan is really very wonderful, she thinks as she closes the door behind her. She’s about to go make tea and settle down with a book on the lanai when the doorbell rings again. Mary is on the other side and she invites her in with a smile. She’s growing fond of Mary, who has stopped by one other time in the four days since Rachel has arrived, to see if everything is going alright. “You look absolutely gorgeous,” Mary tells her as Rachel puts the kettle on.

Rachel smiles, smoothing her dress down and taking a seat across from her. “Thank you,” she replies. “I um, had a date tonight. For the first time in forever.”

“Oh,” Mary leans forward, eager, “Tell me everything.”

“He’s absolutely lovely,” Rachel says, “He’s handsome and classy, with a perfect sense of humor, really. He knew one of the best restaurants in the city and he kept up perfectly wonderful conversation the entire time. He was interested in talking about Grace and even Danny – which. It’s a deal breaker, you know? So it was really very charming. He’s got the most _wonderful_ smile, Mary. Wonderful.”

“He sounds it,” Mary says as the kettle goes off, getting up and pulling two tea cups down for them. She pours the water in and hands Rachel her cup. Rachel begins dunking her tea bag in as she stares somewhat dreamily across the room out through the sliding glass door, towards the ocean.

“He – there’s something there,” Rachel murmurs, “That was never there, with Danny. Danny and I were always just friends. We comforted each other, you know? Because we were rather lonely. But with Stan, there’s a _spark._ And it’s rather thrilling.”

“So you’re going to see him again?” Mary asks.

“Of course,” Rachel says, smiling.

\--  
Two days later, Steve gets a call from Danny. “I have a favor,” Danny hesitates, sounding uneasy over the phone. “It’s – I wouldn’t ask, I really, really wouldn’t but –“

“Danny,” Steve says, “Spit it out.”

“My mother can’t watch Grace and my sisters are all at work and I’ve just gotten called in,” Danny explains. “Because of the snow, school is out, y’know? So I thought maybe you could come over, play some board games with her, keep her entertained for a couple hours while I went in to the station, right? It’s – you can say no if you’re completely not okay with it. Grace was the one who suggested it, she was really excited to ask,” he hesitates over the line.

Steve can hear Grace shouting in the background, “Steve! Steve! Steve! Please Steve! Please!” and Steve can’t help the knot that twists in his stomach a little, the butterfly-flutter feeling that makes him want to jump up and do absolutely whatever Danny asks him to. The one that makes him crazy because – he’s only known him for five days and – that’s insane, right? Even more insane that going on life endangering missions and sticking suspects over roofs, or throwing them in shark cages.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve says, gripping the countertop edge tightly.

Danny breathes out a sigh of relief and he must have given a thumbs up or nod to Grace because on the other end of the line, Grace shrieks loudly and Steve hears, “YAY! STEVE’S COMING!” and footsteps pattering around excitedly.

“That is – thank you,” Danny says, “I will bring food home with me, food and beer and then we can watch whatever game is on the television and – I am in your debt. Really,” he says.

“Not really,” Steve says, “I don’t mind. Grace is a good kid. She’s not hard to watch. Besides,” he adds, grinning, “How can I turn down seeing someone who wants to see me _that_ much.”

Danny snorts, “There’s one in a million, babe. One in a million.”

The butterflies flutter again.

Steve gets to Danny’s house just as Danny is tightening his tie and holstering his gun and he look up, grinning. “Hey, nice to see your mug,” he says. Steve rolls his eyes.

“A tie?” he questions, flicking it. “Back home, nobody wears these.”

“Back ‘home’ nobody has professional ethic,” Danny retorts, stopping down and wrapping his arms around Gracie, who giggles and throws her arms around his neck.

“You smell good, Danno!” she says, sniffing his neck. “Good cologne!” she adds, “The kind mommy bought you for nice things.” Steve thinks he’s imagining the flush that rises on Danny’s neck, but maybe not, because Danny shakes his head quickly and kisses the top of her head before standing up.

“I will be back before you know it,” he says, tugging on one end of her hair lightly, “Please leave the house standing, you two. I know how you Navy SEALs are, you like to see how much destruction you can cause but I? I like to see how much I can keep standing and in order, alright? Grace, you have my full permission to use Steve as a jungle gym, but don’t hurt him too bad, okay Monkey?”

“Got it, Danno,” she chirps.

“Danno loves you,” he taps her nose and she wrinkles it at him before blowing him a kiss. He waves at Steve and then he’s gone.

Steve looks around, but Grace has disappeared. Before he can call for her, she’s back, toting a box and wrapping paper and tape. “I need your help,” she announces, dumping everything but the box on the floor.

“My help?” Steve asks blankly, “My help with what, Gracie?” He sits down next to the items on the floor and she takes a seat across from him.

“I got Danno’s Christmas present at Santa’s Workshop in school yesterday, but I need help wrapping it. Usually mommy helps me, but she can’t, ‘cause she’s in Hawaii, relaxing. Mommy had a hard time at work,” she adds, eyes wide.

“Did she?” Steve murmurs, observing the wrapping paper in front of him. It’s blue with several Santa’s in different dancing forms printed across the paper. It doesn’t have a whole lot of elegance but what it lacks in elegance, it makes up for in spirit, Steve thinks, smiling. Just like the wrapping paper his mother used to buy.

“Can you help me, Steve?” Grace asks, eyes hopeful, and Steve snaps out of his thoughts, looks up at her.

“Of course, Grace,” he grins, starting to unroll the wrapping paper. “You center the box while I find the scissors, okay Ace?”

The spend the next hour wrapping the presents that Grace bought Danny at Santa’s Workshop, carefully and precise, Grace sticking the tape down where Steve instructs, writing _Danno_ in blocky child’s handwriting across the nametags before the stack the boxes according to size and tie them together with a beautiful golden ribbon that Grace has produced from somewhere.

When they’re done with that, Grace insists on a snack of milk and cookies which – Steve swears he’s going to go back to Hawaii twenty pounds heavier with all the carbs and calories she and Danny push on him, but he can’t deny how delicious they are, so he agrees and eats three of them. They sit down in front of the television and Grace puts Rudolph in the DVD player. Steve squirms a little, “Don’t you want to watch – I don’t know, Cinderella or something?” he asks uncomfortably.

Grace stares at him and Steve swears, he may not have known them that long, but that look is pure Danny. “It’s Christmas, Steve,” she says like that explains it all, “We have to watch _Christmas_ movies.” So Steve sits back and sighs, listening to the opening tune of Rudolph and tries not to squirm too much. He stops squirming completely when Grace leans over and rests her head in his lap, and then ends up falling asleep. Twenty minutes later, before he knows it, he’s asleep, too.

He awakes to the smell of Chinese food and Danny shaking his shoulder gently, his voice whispering Steve’s name. “Steve, hey,” he whispers in Steve’s ear and Steve starts to jump before he remembers Grace in his lap.

“Hey,” he sleep-slurs, rubbing his eyes. When he looks up, Danny’s grinning.

“Mr. Macho-SEAL got defeated by the wonders of parenting,” he says smugly, and Steve would roll his eyes if his thought process was running right. Instead, he shifts so his head is leaning against the back of the couch and he can comfortably see Danny moving around the entire apartment.

“Didn’t,” he insists, yawning. “She was a good little angel.”

“Who, my little girl? She’s _always_ a good little angel, Steven, I know this. However, that does not mean that she cannot be energetic and yes, sometimes extremely tiresome.” Danny starts unloading the Chinese onto the table as Steve brushes Grace’s hair out of her still sleeping face gently. She twitches her nose and turns in her sleep a little before settling back down.

“You did a real good job, Danny,” Steve says softly, hesitantly, thinking back to the way they’d wrapped the present that Grace had carefully picked out yesterday afternoon for him. She’d told him that she’d considered the things Danny loved the most and then searched for things the compared to them closest at Santa’s workshop and bought them. And, Steve recalls, she’d asked Steve several times if he thought Danny would like them.

Danny stops his rustling and looks at Steve seriously for a long moment, watches him brush Grace’s hair back, watches the way Steve is studying her sleeping form before his lips twitch up in a proud, grateful grin. “Thanks,” he says, “Sometimes I worry, y’know. Because she doesn’t have a real, whole family, I guess. But. She’s the best kid a guy could ask for, really.”

“She’s amazing,” Steve says softly.

“She is,” Danny replies, and they’re silent, staring at each other for a long moment before Steve finally clears his throat and Danny snaps out of it, going to pull the rest of the Chinese cartons out of the bag. “Right,” he says, “Let’s leave her sleeping for now and we’ll wake her after we eat. She’s not a huge fan of Chinese anyways, but it was the closest takeout place to home and it’s nasty weather out. I don’t think you should drive back to the apartment, either,” he says critically, eyeing Steve.

“I’ll be fine,” Steve starts, but then he looks out the window and notices the snow.

The _snow._ It’s piled high and still coming down steady, a blanket of white and Steve wrinkles his nose, unimpressed. “Mhmm,” Danny says, clicking his teeth. “The couch pulls out, don’t worry,” he tells him and grabs two forks, motioning for Steve to come over. Steve moves carefully, trying not to jostle Grace.

They eat mostly quietly, save for the occasional comment and when they’re done, Danny tries to wake Grace up, but she just grumbles something and rolls over in his arms, falling back asleep. “She’s out for the night,” Danny shakes his head, smiling. “I’ll just put her to bed,” he says, motioning towards her room, “Be right back, okay?”

Steve nods, settling down on the couch. When Danny comes back out, he sits down next to him and turns a random basketball game on the television and sits back, loosening his tie. “Man,” he mumbles, leaning his head on the back of the couch, “Work was just, nasty today.”

“Bad case?” Steve asks, because he knows what that’s like, for sure.

“Can’t all be easy to solve, right?” Danny grimaces. “And they can’t all be clean cut, I guess. It doesn’t matter I just – it doesn’t seem right, you know? For a family, for _someone_ to lose someone special this close to Christmas. That’s just sad, Steve.”

Steve is quiet for a long, long time before he says, “Yeah, yeah, it’s really sad.” Danny cocks his head to the side and stares at him strangely for a long moment but he doesn’t say anything.

They both fall asleep there on the couch, the basketball game a soundtrack to their dreams.

\--  
A week goes back and Rachel sees Stan more nights than she doesn’t, she realizes. Christmas Eve comes and Stan asks her to attend a party for his business with her. “It’s nothing big,” he tells her, smiling, “But I’d love it if you came with me.”

Rachel finds it hard to tell him no.

She talks to Danny and Grace every day but she can’t find it in her to tell Danny about Stan just yet. She’s unsure of his reaction, unsure of whether or not he’ll be happy or cautious and angry that she’s getting involved with someone when she’s supposed to be relaxing and not thinking about anything. But the thing is, Rachel is more relaxed with Stan than she has been in several years, because of her ridiculous job.

And there’s something going on with Danny, too, she muses as she zips her dress up and checks her makeup in the mirror, then begins pinning her hair back. He’s more cheerful over the phone these days, and Grace has told her about Steve and the time they’ve been spending with him. Rachel thinks it’s absolutely lovely that Danny’s met someone, even though he’s insistently denying that there’s anything going on between the two of them.

Grace has told her about the cookie-making and the spaghetti-making, about Steve watching her when Danny was called into work. She knows that Danny doesn’t trust most babysitters, let alone people he doesn’t know too well unless he’s got a gut instinct about them, something that he can rely on to ensure that Grace will be kept safe the entire time he’s away from her. It’s why 99 percent of the time Danny’s mother is Grace’s primary babysitter when Rachel and Danny are at work, instead of a daycare or hired babysitter. It’s why Rachel has been lectured to _death_ and back on the importance of checking every stranger, screening them to make sure they aren’t a danger to herself and Grace.

Danny is protective, but Rachel has always found it a comfort, really.

The doorbell rings and Rachel finishes pinning her hair up before she makes her way downstairs, answering the door. “You look gorgeous,” is the first thing Stan says, and Rachel can’t help but smile.

“Thank you,” Rachel beams, doing a little 180 spin for him, curtseying before she grabs her coat and wristlet. “I’m not underdressed? Or overdressed?”

“You’re perfect,” Stan takes her by the arm and pulls her in, kissing her cheek, and Rachel giggles, the giddiness bubbling up in her throat; she can’t help it, she hasn’t felt like this in ages. And maybe it’s the Christmas spirit, too, but she feels lighter and younger, amazing and wonderful. Stan makes her feel this way and there’s something inside her that makes her never want to leave his side, even at this early stage.

“Shall we?” Stan gestures out towards the car, and Rachel nods, allowing him to lead her down the steps.

The evening truly is lovely, even if Stan is pulled away several times to talk business. Rachel herself meets several acquaintances that tell her to get in contact with them if she ever wants to give working in Hawaii a shot and she thinks, she might have to talk to Danny about it. She might have to really consider it, because she hasn’t smiled and really meant it like this, on her own, without the help of her daughter in a really long time.

She thinks she could really enjoy living here.

\--  
Steve doesn’t know how he got sucked into celebrating Christmas Eve at Danny’s house, with a ham and mashed potatoes and stuffing and even a pie, Danny had told him sternly when he called him. They’ve spent the entire week together and it’s been great, but there’s been underlying tension. There’s been the hint of something more hidden underneath it all the entire time and Steve wants and doesn’t want to act on it all at the same time.

Part of the problem is he can’t say no to Danny. Danny could ask him for the moon and Steve would find a way to pull it down and hand it to him if he wanted it badly enough, really. There’s something in Danny’s eyes, when he asks Steve to come shopping with him for more of Grace’s presents, come help wrap them while she’s in school, come to dinner, or come help make more cookies or pie – it sparks and twinkles like the Christmas lights blinking on Danny’s tree and Steve has the hardest time saying no to it, so he’s given up trying to deny it.

He shows up at seven o’ clock, like instructed and as usual, Grace answers the door excitedly. However, tonight, she’s wearing a gorgeous red and black dress that sparkles a little in the Christmas tree lights. “Do I look pretty, Steve?” She asks, spinning around. Steve doesn’t know how Danny did it, because he never could have managed to do it as a single man, but he’s managed to curl her hair, perfect ringlets that bounce when Grace moves.

“You,” Steve says, stooping down to Grace’s eyelevel, tapping her nose and leaning forward to kiss the tip of it, “are gorgeous, Ace. Absolutely stunning.” Grace giggles, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek sloppily.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

At that moment, Danny comes out of his bedroom buttoning the last button on his shirt and smoothing it down, buttoning his sleeve next. He brushes his hair back and looks up, shooting Steve a brief smile. “Hey,” he says, “Look at this adorable little Monkey, huh? A Christmas miracle if ever there was one, am I right, huh?” he asks Steve, beaming down at her the entire time and Grace laughs, running towards the kitchen and throwing herself on a chair.

“Danno!” She says, shaking her head, “I’m not the Christmas miracle!” Danny frowns.

“You’re not?” he says, playing confused, “Well, then, what is?” Grace thinks for a moment, tapping her chin thoughtfully, eyes observing the room before they settle on Steve and then swivel back to Danny, bright and excited.

“Steve,” she says sounding positive. Steve’s butterflies start fluttering around again. Danny looks at Grace for a long moment, smile frozen on his face before he turns to Steve, looking him up and down for a few seconds.

“You know,” Danny murmurs, coming over and straightening Steve’s shirt for him, brushing the lint off his shoulder, “I think you might be right, Grace,” he says, and then disappears into the kitchen to pull out dinner. Behind Steve, Grace laughs delightedly before following her father into the kitchen to see what she can help with. Steve stands in the middle of the room practicing deep breathing exercises, steadying himself for a few long minutes before he can gather his thoughts together.

Then he tells himself to man up and he pushes his feet forward and goes into the kitchen where his two favorite people are laughing and putting together a Christmas Eve feast.

They eat until Steve thinks he’s going to explode and Grace once again falls asleep in his lap, mouth open with little snores escaping every now and again, her pretty ringlets getting tangled up spread across his pants leg. Danny sits barefoot with his feet tucked under Steve’s leg and Steve feels more comfortable and relaxed than he’s felt in years – since… since he was a kid, if he’s honest with himself. The Christmas tree is the only light in the room on and it sets off a perfect glow, makes Danny’s eyes glimmer every time he blinks up at Steve, head leaning against the arm of the couch. “So,” he says quietly, “Why do you _really,_ hate Christmas?”

Steve pauses, isn’t sure whether or not he really wants to tell him and then he takes a deep breath. “My mom,” he says slowly, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Danny’s calf lightly. It gives him the support he needs to tell his tale, so he continues, “She used to love Christmas,” he smiles, remembering, “She went all out, Danny, just like you and Grace insist on doing. Tinsel and knick-knacks everywhere, tacky wrapping paper and cookies. Piles and piles of cookies. We’d eat them every night until we were so full and sick of them I’d used to think I never wanted to see another cookie again, but then the next Christmas would near and I’d be _craving_ her cookies. She – we had this huge tree that she insisted pulling down on the first of December, every year, no matter what we had already planned for that day. She’d move heaven and earth to make sure we put that damn tree up on the first. My dad hated pulling it down from the attic because it was so heavy. And we had – God, we had so _many_ decorations – she saved every single one of our homemade decorations, y’know?” he swallows.

“And then she died,” Steve says softly, “On December first. And we didn’t pull the tree down that day. And we didn’t pull it down the next day. And eventually we just didn’t pull the tree down at all, and Christmas just didn’t seem to come that year. It didn’t seem to come ever again, with her gone.”

Danny doesn’t say anything for a long moment, until he pushes his toes into Steve’s thigh lightly before sitting up, leaning in close to him, until his nose is brushing up against Steve’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking at Steve. Steve bites his lip, shaking his head just a little. “I’m sorry that she died. I’m sorry she took Christmas with her. But – I hope that we can… bring it back to you, Steve. I hope that Grace and I –“

“You did,” Steve says swallowing tightly, gripping Danny’s calf tighter and Danny brushes his nose against Steve’s cheek again.

“You can – tell me –“ Danny starts, but Steve shakes his head again and turns so that his lips brush against Danny’s in a kiss that starts out light but turns deeper quickly. He’s careful not to move Grace as he frames Danny’s face with his hands and kisses him for long moments before Danny pulls away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Steve breathes.

“Me – um – me, too,” Danny breathes, eyes still closed, breathing hard. The clock chimes midnight and Danny’s eyes fly open to look up at it for a minute before he turns back to Steve, brushing his fingers across his lips. “You really are my Christmas miracle,” he murmurs, before leaning back in to kiss him again.

“Merry Christmas, Danno,” Steve whispers.

\--  
The thing is, Steve thinks as he paces back and forth across Rachel Williams’ apartment on New Year’s Eve a week later, like a caged animal, he wants and doesn’t want to go home.

He knows he needs to, knows he has a job and responsibilities to go back to and he can’t just drop them all for Danny – even though he’s pretty sure what he and Danny have got could be pretty solid if they let it be. He knows he can’t reasonably ask Danny to pack his life up and come to Hawaii with him – Jesus Christ, he’s got a daughter. He knows he can’t stay here, not really. Not reasonably.

It all comes back to being reasonable, and for once in his life, Steve doesn’t _want_ to be reasonable.

There’s a tap on the door and then Danny and Grace come breezing in, Danny giving him a quick kiss before setting food down on the counter. Grace runs to her room to play while Danny starts unloading things. “Danny, hey,” Steve says, tugging on his arm.

“What’s with the face?” Danny asks, looking concerned.

“I don’t want to leave,” Steve says quietly, chewing on his lower lip, watching for Danny’s reaction. Danny doesn’t say anything for a long minute, but his eyes flicker around the room, a sure sign that he isn’t positive of what to say.

“I – I don’t want you to leave, either,” he finally admits just as quietly and Steve takes his hand and tugs him in so that he’s leaning against his chest. “Sure you can’t just stay forever?” he mumbles against Steve’s shirt and when Steve laughs it rumbles low in his chest. Danny kisses his neck and sighs.

“I don’t know what to do,” Steve says, lost for the first time in a long time, “Danny, I’d give you the moon if I could but – I don’t –“ he breaks off, swallowing hard and Danny curls his fists in Steve’s shirt, huffing a little.

“I don’t want the moon,” he says, and then seems to think about it, “Well, maybe a little. But mostly I just want you.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says sadly, head hanging, and Danny pulls away, reaches up on his toes and kisses him.

“Hey, let’s just enjoy tonight and tomorrow, okay? And – promise me one thing, okay?”

“Anything, Danno,” Steve says without hesitating.

“Don’t – don’t let you going back home stop us, alright? Let’s still give it a shot, okay?”

Steve nods, kissing Danny eagerly, “Yeah, Danny, yeah,” he mumbles against his lips.

\--  
Rachel calls Danny on New Year’s Eve because she misses his voice and because she doesn’t have a choice. He answers sounding a little distracted, like he’s probably cooking something and Rachel can hear voices in the background. “Daniel,” she says, hesitantly, “I’ve done something rather reckless,” she tells him, biting her lip.

“Oh no,” he says sounding horrified. “You’ve gone and gotten married, haven’t you? Rachel, that’s –“

“Danny!” She laughs, and if she were there she’d punch him in the shoulder. “Shut up!”

“Alright,” he huffs laughter, “What’s up, Rach?”

“I just,” she says nervously, “I want you to go into this with an open mind, alright? I want you to listen before you go running around half-cocked, screaming and yelling, is all.”

“Rachel,” he says slowly, “What did you _do_?”

“I took a job here in Hawaii!” she blurts out all in one breath and there’s dead silence on the other end of the line; it sounds like Danny’s even stopped breathing.

“I’m sorry, what?” He says finally.

“I didn’t – I met someone very lovely, I really hope you and Grace will like him, but he introduced me to some acquaintances who offered me a job and I love it so much here and I really think that Grace would love it here, as well, and Danny – for all you’ll go on and on about hating the beach I know you really hate cold weather and there hasn’t been a truly miserable day here in Hawaii in the entire two weeks I’ve been here and I just.” She stops, takes a deep breath and says, “I was saying yes before I even thought about what it would do to affect you and Grace,” she admits.

He stays silent for another long, long minute – so silent that Rachel thinks she’s going to suffocate on all the silence until he finally says, “You really like it there?” in such a small voice that Rachel thinks he sounds like a little boy.

“I really, really do,” she says truthfully.

“Hawaii might be nice,” he says slowly, thoughtfully, and Rachel breathes out a long, relieved breath.

\--  
 _One year later._

“Danno! Steveeeee! Danno!” Grace shouts, running into the room, “Look at my dress! Look!” She stops just short of Steve and Danny and Steve grins down at her. She’s wearing a navy blue dress that – of course – sparkles and black flip flops. Her fingernails and toes are freshly painted and her hair is done in ringlets again.

Rachel tumbles through the door behind her, breathless and Steve shakes his head, laughing again as he heads over to help her with the pile of presents she’s carrying. “Filled with energy,” Rachel murmurs as Stan comes in behind her with another armful of presents.

“It’d be nice to be young again, wouldn’t it?” he asks cheerily, clapping Steve on the back in a manhug after he sets the presents down.

“Or at least have a child’s energy,” Danny says, coming into the room carrying Grace. “Or maybe Steve’s,” he adds thoughtfully, “He seems to be able to run around the island doing dangerous things easily enough.”

“Danno,” Steve rolls his eyes as Mary comes through the door next, her own bag of presents in her arms.

“Just saying,” he says. Steve pecks him on the cheek and goes to set presents under the tree.

Later, he and Mary are sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee, watching Grace play with one of her many new toys, listening to Chin and Kono bicker pleasantly over how one of Grace’s other many new toys should be put together, listening to Stan and Danny talk football and watching Rachel try to salvage some wrapping paper, when Mary turns to him, “So,” she says, socking him in the shoulder none-too-gently, “I don’t have all terrible ideas, do I bro?”

“Next year,” he says, swallowing a drink of coffee, “I’m sending you to Colorado.”


End file.
